Words On A Page
by Fuiku
Summary: Who writes on your bodies? And who reads?" Life is nothing more than a series of words on a page. Series of one-shots and drabbles, romance, humor, hurt, friendship, family. Life. Enjoy.
1. Sight and Scent

_AN: This is a collection of one-shots and drabbles, spanning any and all genres and characters. Basically whatever occurs to me. Guaranteed to be short and sweet. Enjoy! _

Sight and Scent

Summary: Sister-fic, Nita and Dairine

Dairine first realized that it had happened to Nita sometime at the tail end of a bright, crisp, fall. Before that, she'd teased, and badgered, and insinuated without mercy, yes, but all of it had always been based on a hunch, and proceeded from a desire to make her sister squirm. She hadn't known it for a fact. But it was fall, and the days were ripening into long, golden evenings, and Dairine thought that Kit was in the kitchen. But when she turned around, he wasn't there at all. The only person there was Nita, popping the top on a soda can and leaning against the fridge door, wearing a too-large flannel shirt, and looking like the wind had just blown her inside. Dairine couldn't understand what had caused the mistake, till Nita breezed by just as she breathed in. Eyes widening, Dairine stopped her bewildered sister and abruptly hugged her, breathing deep. It was all there: the normal smells of moon dust, and herbal shampoo, and old books, but there was something more, something she's only smelled once, when Kit had lent her an old jacket on a cold day, and now it was emanating from her sister's skin. Nita, obviously confused, patted her awkwardly on the crown of her head, and Dairine pushed away just as abruptly as she's grabbed on.

Then she looked her in the eye and said:"Congratulations."

Nita didn't know that it had happened to Dairine until after. After the sun, after the moon, after the end and the beginning, after everything. She'd never noticed it before, she realized, not because it had been hidden, but because it had looked like it was only a _reflection_. Just a reflection of the bright hair, gaudy clothes, and dazzling wit of the one who's seemed, in just a few short weeks, to attach himself to Dairine's side. It should have been obvious by the way she never seemed to mind; the way she'd made room for him, the way she never had for Nita, or her parents, or anyone in _years,_ but Nita had still missed it. Instead it wasn't until he was gone, and all that had been left in the immediate aftermath was the grief, and the tears, and the denial, and her sister's face lowered into her white-knuckled hands that she saw it. They were in a dark place when she'd first looked up again, and Nita saw clearly for the first time the sun in her sister's eyes. Not reflected from without, but burning from within. And she wondered how she'd missed them before.

Then she met those blazing eyes and said: "I'm sorry."


	2. For Those Who Can Hear

_AN: Longer than I planned. More a one-shot than a drabble. What can I say? I like Carmela. Let me know if you think she's OOC._

For Those Who Can Hear

Summary: Carmela and Dairine, sibling stuff.

Carmela felt the need for some consultation. While her normal astronomically high levels of self-assurance allowed her to coax, wheedle, and sometimes just plain bully her way through any situation, weather she knew all the facts or not, she felt slightly out of her depth. Over her brother of all things, which was certainly something she'd never thought would happen. She'd thought that she'd won that sibling rivalry a long time ago, and carefully stored the knowledge of what pranks to pull and what buttons to push away in the back of her head so that Kit would have a better chance of escaping Ponch when his stomach was rumbling than he would of getting out from under her thumb. The addition of Nita and wizardry to the mix had only made things more interesting, but definitely not less manageable. In face, Nita's presence in his life had handed her several more weapons. He was her little brother, and she understood everything about him. Carmela grimaced slightly. Or so she'd thought, anyway, but this morning suddenly had her thinking a little differently.

She hadn't caught him doing a major spell, or saving the planet, or working a new, ground breaking wizardry. She'd just happened to pass by the door and hear the flow of the speech being spoken in a way she'd learned to recognize not as conversation, but as a spell being worked. Curious, and never one to be over-scrupulous of her kid brother's privacy, she'd poked her head inside. Kit had been sitting at his desk, his eyes unfocused, his manual open and glowing slightly in front of him, looking relaxed and content as he read from the symbols glowing on the page. Privately, Carmela thought it was kind of cute to catch his so unguarded, and she snickered a little, not paying attention to what he was actually saying. Then the cadence of his words changed slightly, moving away from the more technical phrases of the speech, and Kit picked up speed, as if saying something he'd said so often he knew it by heart. It took Carmela a few seconds to realize that it was his name. Carmela knew the ramifications of knowing something's name in the speech, and understood the importance of it's total accuracy. Hearing her little brother's name shouldn't have surprised her. She'd heard it before, although she'd been a little too distracted at the time to pay attention. But she was paying attention now, and abruptly she felt uneasy. This was someone, she'd lived with for all his life, a person who she thought she'd long ago tamed and stuffed in her back pocket. Listening to him describe himself, suddenly she wasn't so sure.

His name spoke of loyalty. His name spoke of courage. His name spoke of intelligence and dedication and patience. His name claimed him to be all the things that Carmela knew he was but the speech he said them in gave all those traits a nobility and power that she wasn't really used to associate with her brother. His name spoke of him as more than she was ready to admit that he was. And it spooked her.

And so somehow, that same afternoon, she'd ended up on the Callahan's doorstep.

Nita was right. Sometimes Dairine really was too smart by half. As soon as Carmela began talking, before she'd even got to the part where she would fail to describe _why_ hearing her brother's name had made her so uncomfortable, Dairine was looking like she'd just sat half-way through an over-hyped movie and seen the plot-twist coming a mile away.

"Look Carmela, I know you've been learning the speech, so maybe you've picked up on this. The speech is the language in which everything can be described as accurately as possible, and the name is the one thing that you can say in the speech that has to be perfectly correct... right down to your shoe size and the color of our soul, if you know it. You didn't really think that all of that meaning was just in the vocabulary, did you? Syntax and connotation have a lot to do with it. And Kit's your brother, so you already know him well. You were getting a lot more out of listening to that then you thought you were; you just didn't realize it at the time."

Carmela huffed. "It's not like I don't know that my brother's smart and brave, and all that. I mean, I guess you have to be, to be a wizard, and I saw what happened on the moon, but..." She struggled momentarily, as if looking for the right words, and burst out with "But he's still such a _dork_ sometimes!" This was said with an affectionate smile and shake of the head, but when Carmela looked up she was a little surprised to see Dairine not smiling back.

"Have you ever got the chance to read the precis' on the stuff Kit's done with my sister?" She asked in an even tone.

"Well, I don't exactly have a sweet little machine like Spot running around to feed me that kind of information. Kit usually gives the family a run down of what he's been up to, though. Why?"

Dairine smiled grimly. "I think it couldn't hurt you to take a look at the official version."

They looked. It took longer the Carmela had expected just to read through it, but it took her a lot longer than that to digest a lot of the details laid down in the Manual's concise, clinical logs. After about an hour she gave Spot a pat and pushed herself away. She felt unusually subdued, and slightly shaky. Something cold touched her face, and she jerked up, seeing that same slightly grim smile still on Dairine's face.

"Soda?"

Carmela sighed. "Yeah. Thanks." She glanced back at Spot's still active display. "I can't believe all that stuff's about my little brother. He hasn't been telling us all of what he's been doing by half." She felt slightly sick to her stomach when she thought of all the warnings about her new-found alien obsession that Kit had given her which she'd ignored, convinced that he couldn't really know what he was talking about. Apparently, he'd known a lot more than she'd given him credit for. So far, it'd been nothing but false alarms on his part, but Carmela felt unpleasant shivers of retro-active fear crawl up her spine when she thought about how close she might have come. She pouted. "I could kill him."

Dairine snorted. "Tell me about it. Do you have any idea how I felt the first time I looked up my sister? It took my days to convince myself I hadn't been reading about an entirely different person! And the list was a lot shorter back then." Dairine's mouth had twisted upward in an ironic smile, and Carmela understood why she's seemed to recognize her own problem so quickly. She'd once felt that way herself.

Suddenly exasperated, Carmela made a face. "I think it might take me longer than that. We're talking about a kid who's too lazy to even do the _dishes_ by hand most nights. How would he even have the _initiative_ to evolve civilizations or escape evil parallel universes?"

Dairine shot her a sly glance, side-long. "Oh, like you'd do the dished is you knew a wizardry to get yourself out of it?"

"Of course not." She replied, tossing her hair back over her shoulder proudly. "But I have my manicure to think about. I actually have a _reason_ for wanting to skip out."

"Which is why you bully Kit into wizarding them clean for you when it's your turn?" Dairine arched an eyebrow. Carmela decided she didn't need to dignify that with a response, and buffed her perfect nails on the front of her shirt.

Dairine wasn't letting her off that easily. "You're still having trouble with this, aren't you?"

"Yeah." Carmela admitted with a sigh. Then she turned that same sly glance right back in Dairine's direction. "Don't you?"

Dairine smiled wryly again. "I've had more time to adjust. Plus, it's a little hard to disbelieve something when I have to go on errantry with my sister and personally watch her blow stuff up. But in your case, it's pretty simple, but you'll have to take my word for it: Kit's an amazing guy. And a great wizard. Otherwise I'd have beat him into staying away from my sister a long time ago."

Carmela laughed, and felt a sudden, surprising, almost irrational surge of pride in her little brother. The thought of repressing it crossed her mind, but it didn't feel like an emotion that was going to be repressed anytime soon. Instead, she smirked. "Huh. I guess we are related, after all. There are days when I wonder."

Dairine grinned briefly, and then her face dropped back into a scowl. "If you ever tell him _or_ my sister that I said that, I will personally go over to your house myself and uninstall your alien broadband connection. No more _All My Podlings, _no more _grenfelzing,_ no nothing."

"Perish the thought!" Carmela said, putting her wrist to her forehead and pretending to fall back in her chair in a faint. "Anyway," she said, recovering with another grin. "He'd have to be something pretty special to keep up with your sister. Nita's hot stuff!"

Carmela was watching carefully, so she didn't miss it when Dairine's mouth twitched briefly upward, and her eyes dropped for a half-second, trying to pretend she wasn't pleased. Then she shrugged. "She does OK."

Carmela was careful not to laugh. Dairine _had_ just done her a favor, after all. Instead she just smiled and grabbed her jacket, getting ready to head for the door. "Thanks-" she paused. "For the soda."

Dairine smiled back. "Anytime."


	3. Live With It

_AN: One-shot, Harry Callahan's point of view. Introspective. Some K/N._

Live With It

Summary: Harry's daughters show up with an injured Kit and Harry has to make some serious adjustments to his way of thinking.

Harry Callahan thought that did a fairly good job of adjusting To his daughters' somewhat unusual lifestyle. He honestly tried his best to be supportive of their choices and understanding of their problems. He let his oldest daughter spend all her free time with her best friend either off on "business" on a nearby celestial body, or in her room, her bed covered with what looked like crosses between spaceship schematics and sheet music, trying to keep ecosystems from collapsing, or prevent the feud between the seven varieties of plant life in the school aquarium from reaching crisis proportions. He accepted the fact that his youngest daughter had a near genius IQ, a social circle that consisted primarily of lifeforms found out near the universal rim, and that her closest confidant was a sentient computer that followed her around like a dog and could regard you curiously with anywhere from zero to twenty-two eyes. On the whole, most days he felt that he did a pretty good job of rolling with the punches that came with being a single-parent bringing up two young wizards.

Today was not one of those days.

When Harry heard the familiar _pop_ of displaced air from the backyard when he was cooking dinner, he actually smiled a little to himself bemusedly. He had found a note stuck to the fridge in Dairine's hand writing that morning: _Out with Nita and Kit on a short business trip to Alpha Centari. Left early to beat traffic. Should be back around 4. Nita says buy more lettuce. -Darine _

"The things you get used to." He murmured as he set the sauce on to simmer and headed to the back door to see if Kit was staying for dinner.

Fifteen minutes later, the sauce was burning and Harry hadn't even bothered to put the chicken in the oven. It could've been he look of terrified panic on Nita's face as she and her sister struggled through the screen door, dragging Kit between them, that had distracted him, or it maybe it was the pale, mask-like look on Dairine's. Nothing that made her look like that had ever boded well. More likely though, it was the fact that Kit was drenched in blood starting from the right side of his T-shirt and going all the was down his jeans, and had barely managed a rasped "Hi, Mr. Callahan," before dropping from his partner's arms and collapsing on the living room carpet.

Harry wasn't sure, later, how any of them got through the next quarter of an hour. He'd picked the boy up and carried him to the sofa, noticing through the haze how his breath sounded unnaturally labored in his throat. He'd helped his now almost frantic daughter gather the things she would need for a more intensive healing spell than the patch up she'd apparently done on the spot, and he'd listened to her and Dairine's hurried consultation about what to do next.

"Look, he's an AB, and neither one of us can-"

"I know that! Just go get Carmela, and-"

"Just because she's his sister doesn't mean she has the same blood type, Nita..."

"She's an O- universal donor! Now shut up, and go get Carmela!"

Harry could recall the last time Dairine had actually shut up just because Nita, or anyone, for that matter, had told her to, but this time she closed her mouth and, skirting the bloodstains on the carpet, left with another _bang!_ out the back door. Nita was kneeling on the floor by the couch, holding her partners hand as if she didn't even realize she was doing it. The stillness of the scene was almost surreal when compared to the hectic movement of the last half hour. Harry cleared his throat.

"Honey," he said, putting his hand gingerly on her back, "Shouldn't we get him to a hospital?"

He felt her swallow hard as she shook her head. "He'll be OK." Although the expression on her face made her look like she was lying. "I patched up all the major damage, and it looks worse than it really was. He needs a blood transfusion soon, though. He lost a lot. It just wasn't a... clean hit." His daughter's voice was thickening. Harry tried to keep his own voice level as he asked the next question.

"Nita, what happened?"

But she didn't answer, because suddenly Dairine had returned with Kit's older sister, and there was no room for him there anymore. The three girls were suddenly in motion again. Carmela, with a look somewhere between fear and blazing determination on her face, was plugging in her own name in the speech for a blood transfusion spell, Dairine was handling the machination for making the equivalent of a hypodermic needle out of nothing but syllables and Nita was tying it all together and setting it up to run with an automatic gauge, to make sure it gave the right amount to Kit without taking too much from Carmela. Harry backed off and leaned against the living room door-frame, his brain still floating in shock. He had thought he was used to the idea of his girls frequently risking their lives, or as used to the idea as a parent can get, but this...

He knew what they were up against. He knew that the enemy for his girls was _the_ Enemy, the one behind every bad name human kind had ever come up with to disguise it with. He knew that what they were doing was bound to be dangerous. But he had accepted these things knowing that they seemed to understand the risk, acted responsibly with the power they had been given, and had support. Becoming acquainted with Tom and Carl and having several alien house guest use his home as a kind of vacation base had even given the situation a semblance of normalcy. _After all, it's not crazy if everyone you know is doing it. _Sometimes his daughters did come home looking sad, or confused, or with a troubled look in their eyes he couldn't place, but they had always been honest about their problems, and they had always, somehow, bounced back. They had always come home. Even Kit, who had by some sttrange osmosis process, become nearly family, had always come home. He thought he had accepted it. But now Harry had to come face to face with the fact that maybe he had only accepted it _academically. _

It had never come down to a bloodstain on the carpet before.

His nerves were more than a little frayed when he finally cornered Dairine in the kitchen, a pale Carmela sitting at the counter clutching a glass of orange juice to try to bring her blood sugar back up, and demanded an explanation.

"Sweetie," He said, not succeeding so well at keeping his voice level this time. "What the hell _happened _out there_?_"

Dairing sighed and slumped into a chair, meeting her father's eyes but looking past exhausted. Carmela looked up, her face set. Apparently, she hadn't been told any details yet either. "It was just supposed to be an exploratory mission. Nita had been... contacted by one of the inhabitants of a moon near Alpha Centari. They seemed to be asking for her to run interference for them with a localized, half-sentient binary composite. She thought it was more my thing, so she roped me into it. We were just heading out today to establish initial contact and see what we could, or even should do. We split up: Nita and I went to check out the composite and Kit was supposed to go rendezvous with an ambassador from the group of beings who called us there. I don't know if they met up or not, but everything seemed on the up an up. Then, about a half hour after we split up, Nita just stopped. She looked really freaked out suddenly, and said we had to go find Kit right away. She wouldn't stop and explain, and I don't know how she knew where he was, because it wasn't where we left him. I could barely get here to stay still long enough to give me the coordinates." Dairine rubbed her face in her hands and sighed again, looking grim once more. "When we got showed up, there was no sign of the ambassador- there was no sign of anyone, but there _were_ signs of a fight- and Kit was already... Already down." She finished in a low voice.

Carmela's eyes were narrowed. "As soon as I get me strength back up you're going to give me those coordinates, Dairine." It was a statement. "I'm taking my curling iron and going up there. I don't care if he _can_ blow things up with a car antennae, nobody does that to my little brother."

"Why didn't you go straight to his house, Dari, if your sister knew where Carmela was?" Harry asked.

"We didn't, for one thing, and for another, Nita vetoed it. She said that if Kit's mom saw him like that she'd never let him do anything more dangerous than a leaving the backyard again."

"She was right." Carmela snorted. "Mama's a nurse. "She knows too much about what stuff does to the human body. She calls it being "ER shell-shocked," and it makes her a little paranoid about our safety sometimes. If she knew that you guys were getting in this kind of stuff on a normal basis..."

"Today wasn't normal." Dairine said firmly. She met her father's eyes, with a small, still grim, smile. "I'm sorry, Dad. I don't think we had a choice."

Some time later, he wasn't sure how long, he was leaning in the living room doorway again. He'd heard voices. Kit was awake, although from the looks of things, he wouldn't be up and running any time soon. Nita was perched on the edge of the couch, leaning over him, her hair tucked behind her ears.

She wasn't looking him in the eyes as she spoke.

"... you'll have to stay in bed for a few days. Carmela's going to get some of your clothes, and you're going to stay here tonight. You really shouldn't be moving at all for a while. Hopefully, she'll help you cover your ass at home from your mother, although Carmela might looks like she might want to take a chunk out of it herself-"

"I'm sorry Nita."

"...You already said that. You don't have to apologize for anything. You're not going to die today." She tried to smile, but her father noticed that her eyes were still focused on a point on the pillow just above his head.

"I knew I wasn't going to die today." He whispered. "I knew you'd get there in time to save me. I didn't have a choice but to do what I did. That wasn't why I said I was sorry when I..."

Se cut him off. "Then why did you?" She she demanded. Her eyes were stern and wet.

He sighed, sinking a little back into the couch cushions. "Because I knew what you'd see when you got there, and I knew what you'd think."

She turned her head away, her throat working ineffectually against tears. She made to get up from the couch. "You should get some sle- Kit, lie down!"

But he'd levered himself up, although Harry saw him turn noticeably paler and clench his jaw in pain to manage it, and put his arm around her, pressing his forehead into her shoulder. His voice reflecting the strain it was for him to sit up right now, he gasped: "I wasn't going to leave you Nita. I knew what you'd think, after your... But, what kind of partner would I be if I...?"

For a moment she froze, and then she broke, and then she cried, and she got him to lay back down by the simple expedient of draping herself on top of him and sobbing. Kit, still pale, kept his eyes closed, and he didn't say anything else, but he also didn't let her go, and suddenly Harry had a strange thought:

_This is private. I shouldn't be watching this._

And of all the gut wrenching things he had felt that day, that one moment clenched at him the worst. His daughters were wizards. They did things that most adults didn't even have the audacity to dream about, and they faced things regularly that required more courage than most people had to summon up in a lifetime. Sometimes they came back injured, and although most of the time those injuries weren't physical, there probably would still be times when they would bleed on the carpet. He would do this best to heal them both. He would stand by them. He would support them. They were all he had, and for their sakes, he could learn to live with it. All of it.

Except maybe with the idea that his oldest daughter had found someone from whom she needed all those things just as much as she needed them from him.

He found he had wandered over to the phone. He stared at it, deciding absently that he was going to phone Tom and Carl, and then put a call in to the Rodriguez'.

If he was going to come to grips with this, he wouldn't be doing it alone.


	4. One Plus One Equals Two

_AN: It's been a while, but the mood has returned, and I'm back. This one's short, but it's straight up N/K, so I hope you enjoy it. _

Summary: Nita figures out something important.

**One Plus One Equals Two**

_Hold my hand firmly, and don't let go just because other people are looking._

Kit was her rock. He was stubborn and steady, and never let her take the easy way out. She was always inspired to be the best she could be around him, and it wasn't even because he wanted her to be perfect. It was because he honestly seemed to believe that she wouldn't accept anything less from herself. He believed that she wouldn't let herself down, and for some reason, his belief made her believe it, too. If someone teased them about being joined at the hip, Kit would just shoot right back that the teaser was jealous just because they'd have a better shot at the three legged race. Sometimes life with a partner in it really did feel like that, though. Like someonehad bound them indivisibly together, and now they had to match each other's faulty stride to cross some great, invisible, finish line. It could've been a chore. But, Kit was courageous, and witty, and puppy-dog loyal. He knew when to be serious, and he was quick with a comeback. As far as supernatural deals that encouraged complete co-dependent went, she felt like she could've done a lot worse.

And yet, after a while, Nita realized something.

Nita was fantastic when she worked alone. She was smart, and she was strong, and she was resourceful, and a damn good wizard to boot. Nita needed food, and air, and the blood and magic that ran through her veins. But Nita didn't _need_ Kit, not really. She was great all by herself.

But revelation 1 was quickly followed by revelation 2:

Nita didn't _need_ Kit.

But, she was so, _so _much better with him.

She was herself, but she was also _more_ with him. It was just basic math.

Which was why, when things "changed" between them, Kit knew better than to put his arm around her hip, or carry her books, or try to be a gentleman and hold open doors. They still raced from the car like they did everyday, and that day Kit won, slamming through the metal doors ahead of her and pointedly laughing and ignoring her scowl when she came in panting 20 second later. They bickered in the stairwell, and as for their bookbags- He carried his. She carried hers. He didn't touch her beyond an accidental bump in the crowded hallways. It wasn't until they'd idled away the few remaining mintes before the bell rang for first period in front of her locker, that there was any indication of a change in the status quo.

It happened when they once more shouldered their backpacks to head for their shared morning class. Kit paused deliberately, breaking her out of step and making her stop. He didn't grab her hand. Instead, he looked her right in the eye, and offered his hand to her. Nita held his gaze for a long second, grinned approvingly, and took it. He grinned back.

A few people stared. They walked down the hall, joking like everything was normal, while their fingers, defiant to the following eyes, twined like strong ropes.

_I'm not going to ask you not to let go of me._

_Because, as long as you want me, I wont let go of you._


	5. Moon Dust Halo

_AN: Set after WonM, but can be read separately without a problem._

**Moon Dust Halo**

Summary: Kit/Nita. That's it.

You love her.

This is a stunning revelation, despite how long the feeling has obviously lain dormant in the back of your heart. You never looked at it before. Now you have, and now you know: She is amazing. She is strong. She is stubborn in a way that ceased to be annoying the same day it started being adorable. She is with you, always, in sickness and health, hell or high water, devastation or death. You realize it on the day you nearly lost yourself, the day that she was with you- like always- saving you: No one could ever compare to Nita Callahan.

So you love her.

She stomps down the stairs, arms crossed, scowl in place, and tosses a word over her shoulder to her sister that probably would get her in trouble later. She's wearing jeans, an old T-shirt, and sandals with the soles peeling away from the shoes.

Love spreads to your skin from the inside out, until you can almost see it radiating from you, like a moon dust halo.

You are early, and when Nita sees you, she blinks, surprised. She's not one for blushing, but it's a close call nonetheless.

You smile. When she smiles back, you wonder if she would _feel_ your love as a physical thing if you took her hand. If you were brave enough to try, that is. Inside the house, with her father and sister, you are not.

Half a mile from the doorstep, you are. You don't know for sure what she feels, but she twist her hand in your grip until her fingers are laced with yours, squeezing and a little sweaty, and that is more than good enough.

You are happy. Happy just with swinging your hands lightly between you as you walk through the still warm twilight. Happy chatting, or in silence. Happy in being with her.

You are more than happy when she scoots a little closer in the theater, frowning as she lifts the arm separating your seat from hers, (something you hadn't scraped up enough courage to do yourself,) and leans her head on your shoulder. It's a new and wonderful feeling.

Through a hundred and fifteen minutes of cheap one-liners, implausible explosions, and gratuitous violence you don't stop grinning once.

One block from her house and you pull on the hand in yours, making her stop. You've done things in the past that have required more courage than what you want to do tonight, but right now you can't remember what any of them are.

You swallow.

Take one step.

Grab her free hand with yours.

Take two.

Her eyebrows are arched by step three, curving like question marks, but she stands still as you start to lean in. Her fingers squeeze yours in silent encouragement as you hesitate. (She always knows when you need a little push.)

Her lips taste like lemon. Her mind tastes like Nita.

You pull back, hold your breath, and wait. Her eyes open, and she takes her hands away. You open your mouth to speak, but she puts her hands back on you, (on your shoulders, this time,) and matches you kiss for kiss. You know she thinks you taste like Kit, and you love her.

Because she loves you, too.


End file.
